Second Best
by Bixata
Summary: Jack O'Neill was never the smart one, but he doesn't mind. His brother always told him he was special, but just how special is he? Why Jack is the way he is.
1. Chapter 1

Trudging home from school through the piling snow of the Minnesota winter, with his tender hands shoved deep in his pockets to keep his fingers warm and protected from the subzero temperatures, ten year-old Jack O'Neill struggled to see where he was going with only his right eye. The left was currently swollen shut, red and bruised from the fist his face had the misfortune of intercepting, due the sarcastic wit of his mouth.

He briefly wondered if he'd be able to hide the evidence of the fight from Pop, but dismissed the idea immediately because Pop never missed a thing. It would be best not to try to hide it, to act normally, to show no guilt or fear of repercussions.

There would be repercussions. Pop didn't approve of fighting, no matter the reason. Jack thought it a curious effect of human nature to protest the use of violence by inflicting violence.

It made the impending punishment easier, though, knowing the reason behind the black eye he'd received. He got it protecting David. His older half-brother was really smart, he'd realized from the moment they were introduced three years ago, when his mother dropped him off to live with a father that hadn't known he existed, and didn't seem to care either way.

David was always talking about some new thing he had learned, or some old thing he remembered, or something he made up entirely on his own. Jack didn't understand him more than eighty percent of the time but it was nice to listen to him, it was nice to have someone talk to him, and not at him. Sometimes, if he asked the right questions, he could get David to simplify what he called 'complex details' down to the basic components so Jack could understand, or sometimes the other way around so he could get the big picture. He felt a real sense of pride when his older brother made him feel smart, when David believed he was intelligent enough to understand.

Nobody else thought he was smart.

Most of the time he agreed.

Except there would be moments when David would say something, maybe at dinner, and Pop wouldn't have a clue what he was talking about but Jack would understand. The one time he had tried to explain, thinking he knew enough of the basics to clarify the finer points, his father had laughed at him harshly, boxed him around the ears and said 'Don't be a fool, boy. You'll never understand a word David says. You haven't got the brains.'

So he had stopped trying.

There was a time he was resentful of David. He didn't think it was fair that his brother got so much special treatment, that he was showered with gifts and rewards while Jack got stuck doing extra chores, or that he received the praise and affection of their father while Jack was lucky to get a handshake.

For nearly two years he battled for his father's attention, trying anything he could to get Pop to focus on him, pay an interest in him, at least tell him he'd done something good. He tried everything: fighting with other boys, skipping school and running away for days, practicing hard at hockey until he was the best on his team, and working extra hard on his English until he finally got that A. Pop never cared. The only person who even noticed, who worried about him when he disappeared, and came to his hockey games and cheered for him, was David.

Over time, he began to focus less on Pop and more on his brother. It didn't matter what Pop thought as long as David approved of him. As long as David loved him.

Which was why he now had the black eye and bloody palms.

David was four years older than him but Jack had quickly realized that even he fit in better with his brother's classmates than David did. His brother wasn't comfortable talking to other people and because he was so smart a lot of the older boys, and even some of the girls, made fun of him for it. Over the last year, Jack saw it as his duty to protect his brother from these people, and that meant defending his intelligence and his honor.

There was nobody better at protecting the brilliant and the clueless than a scrappy Jack O'Neill. David may be bookwise but growing up on the streets of Chicago Jack was certainly the more streetwise. He was always amazed that his brother, the smartest boy he'd ever met, could be so oblivious to the world around him. However, like Jack had given up trying to understand David's world of theories and numbers and languages, David didn't try to understand Jack's world of emotions, honor, and physicality.

Today, after school, two of David's classmates had been harassing David, teasing him mercilessly for wearing glasses and sucking up to the teachers and being so awkward around girls. They called him names Jack didn't understand and started pushing him around while David pleaded with them to stop, to leave him alone.

That's when Jack stepped in.

He didn't fight. A while back, after a particularly successful right hook, David had begged him not to hurt anyone. He didn't want people to get hurt because of him, so Jack promised not to fight anymore. That didn't mean he still couldn't stand between his brother and danger.

He jumped in front of David and shoved the bullies away, his expression calm but determined as he ordered them to "Leave him alone."

The boys had laughed and said something to David about needing the retarded runt to fight his battles for him.

"That's right," Jack had replied defiantly. "A retarded runt like me is more than enough to defend him from brainless apes like you two. You're just scared of him 'cause he's smarter than you, and he's going to be real important someday, like the President, and you'll be able to say, 'I used to know that guy, I taught him how to be a man,' while you're nothing but a beat up old coward crawling the streets and begging for a buck, and he'll be the man that gives you that buck and offers you a job and tells you not to worry, because that's the kind of guy he is. He's better than you, better than all of us only he doesn't know it 'cause he likes to think we're all equals, all worth something. And if you try to disprove him on that then you'll have to go through me because I am not going to let you touch my brother, and I am not going to let you demean and insult him when he didn't do anything to deserve it."

They punched him anyway, laughed and walked away as David bent over him and examined the damage.

Now they were walking home, and Jack was trying to think of what he could tell Pop that wouldn't get him in too much trouble.

"You shouldn't have done that, Jack. They're just bullies, I can handle them."

He rolled his eyes because obviously David hadn't been handling them. "You shouldn't let them walk all over you. You're better than that."

"And you shouldn't be fighting. You know I don't like when you get in trouble. Dad's going to be upset when he sees your eye."

"Better me than you," he muttered to himself, kicking at the snow on the side of the road.

They walked in silence for a minute or two before David tried speaking to his belligerent younger brother again. "Jack, why do you do things you know will get you into trouble? What's the point?"

"Sometimes it's fun," Jack replied with a cheeky grin.

"You think fighting is fun?"

He scowled at his brother, angry that David couldn't understand his motives, couldn't see that Jack was protecting him. David refused to see the bad in people and for that he was oblivious to a lot of the pain that Jack suffered. The fights, the teasing, Pop's indifference, the disappointment when he couldn't be like his brother. David never knew how much Jack did for him, without complaint or expectations of reward.

"I don't fight for fun. I fight because I have to."

"There's always an alternative to fighting, Jack."

"Then why don't you do something about it?" he shouted. "You're so smart, why don't you think of a way to get people to stop picking on you? Then maybe I wouldn't have to fight."

David stopped walking and grabbed Jack's shoulder. "What do you mean by that? You fight so kids won't bully me?"

Jack shrugged, his eyes on the ground. "You're my brother."

"You're protecting me? Is that what this is all about?"

He shrugged again, shuffling his feet. A second later David was hugging him and Jack latched on tight.

"Oh, Jack, I didn't know. I'm not so smart after all, if I couldn't see what you've been doing all this time. But it has to stop now. You're my kid brother, I'm supposed to be the one protecting you."

"I'm not worth it. You're more important than me." He tried to snuggle into David's jacket but his brother pulled away.

"How can you say that? I'm no more special than you are. You're important, Jack, don't you dare believe otherwise. We may not be the same but…you were willing to sacrifice yourself to protect me. You've taken beatings for me, and faced up to Dad for your actions knowing he'd be upset with you, and I can't think of anyone more courageous. I don't like you getting hurt, but you do it for others. Some day you're going to save lives, I know it, and that's more important than spouting math equations and reciting history. Whatever you do, take pride in it, and yourself. And don't you ever listen to anyone that says you're worthless, or unimportant, or that you haven't got the brains to do something. Do you hear me Jack? You're special."

Jack was busy hiding his tears in David's jacket. David was smart. David wouldn't lie to him. He was special.

-----

_Thirty-four years later_

"Which means she is smarter than you are, Colonel," General Hammond replied on behalf of the favored scientist, Captain Sam Carter.

Jack O'Neill simply smirked.


	2. Chapter 2

Spoilers: Serpent's Venom

Jack was home alone. His father and David had gone into town to the local hospital because David wasn't feeling well. Pop was always careful about David's health, though Jack could be bleeding from the eyes and he'd be ordered to sleep it off. However, he thoroughly approved of the over-protectiveness towards David's health, so he didn't complain.

He lay down on his belly on the floor of the living room close to the fire, propped up on his elbows, his book for English opened up in front of him. English was his favorite subject, and the only one for which he completed all his homework, sometimes doing more than was required of him. His math he did reluctantly with David's help, history was okay because he liked reading some of the stories though he could never remember all the important dates and places. He hated science. He just wasn't meant to be a scientist, that was David's job.

Prepositions. Now there was something he could understand. Never end a sentence with a preposition.

"John!"

Jack nearly jumped out of his skin as the front door slammed open, a gust of cold wind accompanied by his father. His father did not look happy.

He closed his book and jumped to his feet as his father stormed by him.

"Pack a bag for David. A couple days worth of clothes. And find that book he's reading, the big one with the stars on the front."

"Is he okay?"

"Just shut up and do it! And pack something for yourself, too, we're staying in town."

He didn't bother to ask any more questions. He ran to the bedroom he shared with David and packed both their bags in about thirty seconds flat, picking up the book with the stars off the dresser as he ran out the door. Pop was still rummaging around his own room so Jack crouched down on the floor by the front door and straightened out and neatly folded David's clothes so they wouldn't get wrinkled. David didn't like his clothes wrinkled.

"Put the fire out!" Pop yelled at him from the other room.

Jack scowled. He ended that sentence with a preposition. Jerk.

Five minutes later they were in the car, driving the icy roads into town. He knew it was foolish, he knew he'd just get in trouble, but he had to know. "What's wrong with David?"

"There's nothing wrong with him! He's gonna be fine."

"Then why did you leave him at the hospital?"

"Because I had to take care of you! One drunken mistake and I get stuck with you for life. Why your mother dumped you on me I'll never understand."

"I didn't ask to be stuck with you," he replied bitterly, looking out the side window. It wasn't his fault his Mom couldn't afford to take care of him anymore, and had decided that he should live with his father, a widower who had taken advantage of her to handle his grief.

"If David wasn't so fond of having a little brother I'd send you to the orphanage. You're more trouble than you're worth. My son needs me and instead of being there for him I have to make sure you don't get in trouble. Could you at least try to be more like him, just this once, pretend that you're a good boy?"

He glared straight ahead, just managing not to bare his teeth and growl. He'd been doing his homework by the fire, how was that causing trouble? "I'll behave myself for David," he promised through clenched teeth, "if you tell me what's wrong with him."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Maybe I would if you let me."

"He's sick! My son could be dying! And you, you've got your perfect health, not so much as a damn cold, but my brilliant boy who's got so much to offer to this world might not make it through the winter!"

Jack felt his chest tighten, ignoring the anger and condemnation in Pop's tone as he usually did, and hearing only the news that his brother was dying. "David's…He's…"

"Just shut up. I don't want to talk about it."

"But…"

"Jack!" The car swerved on the ice as Pop wrestled to get it back under control while fighting the urge to backhand the boy next to him to get him to stop talking.

Jack cowered into his seat, making himself as small as possible as he tried to think about what was happening to his brother. He knew David had been sick for a while, and he'd been so weak lately he couldn't even walk home from school anymore, but he didn't know it could be so bad.

They finally got to the hospital and Pop didn't wait for him as he grabbed David's bag and ran through the doors, leaving Jack confused and lost. He saw David's book still on the seat and picked it up, leaving his own bag on the floorboard. He slammed the door shut, making sure it wasn't locked, and walked into the hospital.

He looked around, unsure where David would be, so he decided to search each room until he found him. It took him five minutes to find the proper room, where he could hear his father's raised, pleading voice. "He's all I've got left. You have to do something."

Those words didn't hurt him anymore. They should have, but they didn't.

As he listened through the open doorway he heard a male doctor's voice speaking in low, calm tones as he explained David's condition. He couldn't hear everything, but he got the gist of it. David had something called acute leukemia, which affected his immune system and made him more susceptible to pneumonia. The doctor could try to cure the leukemia with a drug called 6-MP, but with David already so sick from the pneumonia, the chances of recovery were very slim.

There was a long silence in the room and Jack peeked inside to see what was going on. Pop was crying. He had his face buried in his hands and the Doctor was patting his shoulder. Jack slipped into the room and sat down in the corner, hugging his knees with David's book pressed up to his chest. He didn't think Pop was capable of tears.

As soon as the doctor left he stood up and approached the bed where David was sleeping, moving quietly so he wouldn't disturb Pop. He studied his brother's face, which was slightly flushed from illness but otherwise relaxed in sleep. He set the book down on the bed beside him and just as quietly left the room.

He walked through the hospital until he found a room with lots of books in it, and he crept in and studied the bindings. They were obviously all medical books, but he wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for. He picked up one of the larger ones and pulled it off the bookshelf, setting it down on the floor and kneeling over it as he opened it to the back and looked through the index.

He wasn't sure how to spell leukemia but he didn't find any words under 'L' that looked right so he put the book back and pulled down another one, this time noting that the title mentioned immune diseases. He found the word in the back and turned to the appropriate page to find out what was killing his brother. As he read, he had to look up even more words to understand what they were, so within half an hour he had four books on the floor and open to different pages.

"What are you doing in here?" a male voice asked from the doorway and he jumped a little at the unexpected intrusion.

"I had to look up something," he explained, glancing over at the man, who was wearing the clothes of a janitor.

"Did you get permission to be in Dr. Fielding's office?"

He sighed, knowing he'd have another reprimand coming but not really caring. "No. He'd have said no. He wouldn't think I could understand this stuff."

The janitor knelt down beside him and glanced over the pages. "Leukemia?"

Jack nodded his head. "That's what the doctor said David has. I wanted to know what it was."

"He wouldn't tell you?"

"I didn't ask."

"Do you understand it now?"

Jack shrugged. "Not all of it, but enough. He's dying."

David was going to leave him behind with a father that didn't want him. Pop only wanted the good son, Jack was just an inconvenience.

Well, he was going to be there for David until the end, he didn't care what Pop had to say in the matter. He had to protect his brother.

---

_Thirty-eight years later_

Jacob Carter ignored Jack's sarcastic remark about the potential mission to the Tobin mine field being an insane idea. "Obviously, I'll need Dr. Jackson, and there might be some complicated mathematical calculations to be done, Sam would be a big help, too."

A throat cleared suggestively.

"Of course, Colonel O'Neill is…always lots of fun to have around."

Jack was used to being an inconvenience. He didn't mind.


	3. Chapter 3

Spoiler: Serpent's Lair part 2

Jack hefted the heavy ax over his shoulder and slammed it down, splitting another log for the fire. He struggled to get the sharp blade out of the stump but it wouldn't budge. Finally, he put all of his weight into it and yanked backwards hard. His feet slipped as the blade came free and he crashed to the ground with a soft thud. He stared down at his legs where the sharp blade had landed just between his feet and burrowed several inches into the snow. He could have cut off his foot! That was close.

He put the ax away and picked up the firewood he had managed to split, making several trips to carry it all to the house. They had needed a lot of firewood lately because David was too sick to leave the house and he needed to be warm all the time. It was Jack's responsibility to make sure the fire was always blazing.

David had been home from the hospital for a week now. Pop couldn't afford to leave him in the hospital, as it was, they were going to be in debt for years because of the expensive treatments David had needed. Food was hard to come by and Jack was left to fend for himself when it came to mealtime, though he couldn't begrudge giving everything they had to David.

As he looked at his brother, he knew David never should have left the hospital. He was having so much trouble breathing and he could barely move enough even to eat. Pop was gone during the day because he couldn't afford to lose his job, so that left Jack in charge of taking care of David. It was so nerve-wracking, because he knew that if there was an emergency and David needed to get to the hospital, there was nothing he could do. They didn't even have a telephone to call for help.

David was just waking up, in his bed which Pop had moved from the bedroom to the living room to be closer to the warmth of the fire, when Jack walked inside with an armful of firewood. "Hi, David. How do you feel?"

David muffled a rattling cough in his blanket and slowly sat up. "I'm fine."

Jack smiled at the lie, knowing it was meant to reassure him, as futile as that was. "Need anything? You thirsty?"

"I can get it."

"Don't you dare!" he ordered, dropping the firewood and running over to David and pushing him back down on the bed gently. "You're supposed to be resting."

"That's all I've been doing for a whole week. I never thought I'd be grateful for some physical exercise, but I'd give anything to go for a walk. I'd even let you teach me to skate."

"I don't know how you could go fourteen years in Minnesota and not know how to skate." Jack shook his head in feigned disappointment. "It's unnatural."

David chuckled at his younger brother, but it quickly deteriorated into a cough. "Some of us just aren't meant to fly," he said dreamily, lying back onto the bed. Jack had always said skating was like flying, though neither boy had ever been in a plane. "Jack?"

"David?"

David waved for his brother to join him on the bed, and Jack didn't hesitate to crawl in beside him. "Tell me about your mother," David requested.

"My mom? Why?"

"We never really talked about her. I know it's been hard for you, living here with Dad. He can be pretty insufferable at times. If you had a choice…"

"I'd be right here," Jack interjected before David could finish the question. "Pop's an ass, I could do without him quite nicely, thank you very much. But I kinda like having an older brother, so it's not so bad."

"You really mean that?" David asked, his voice trailing off to a whisper as though falling asleep.

"I really do. Mom, she was nice and I know she tried really hard to take care of me and I know she didn't really want to give me up. Everyday she'd tell me that she loved me, and that she didn't regret having me. She wanted to keep me with her, but she could barely take care of herself and she wanted me to have a better life." He almost laughed at the irony. Financially, he had been better off with his Mom than he was at this moment, and if it hadn't been for David his life with Pop would have sucked, big time.

"I love you too, Jack," David whispered, his voice so low Jack had to lean in closer to hear him. "I don't regret having you as my brother. You made me see things I never would have otherwise, and…I am so grateful I got to know you. I want you to promise me something."

"Don't talk like that," Jack whispered harshly. "Don't talk like you're leaving."

"I have to, Jack. We both know I'm dying."

"No!"

"Jack, please, listen to me. I know how hard you fight for me, but this is one battle you can't win. I want you to know that, no matter what Dad says, this is not your fault. I want you to promise me that you won't blame yourself. You remember when I told you, you were special?" David felt the blanket move as Jack nodded. "That hasn't changed. You'll always be my brother, and I am so proud of you. You're going to be an amazing man, Jack. I wish I could…be there to see it."

Jack felt warm tears cascade down his cheeks but he didn't try to stop them. He buried his face against David's shoulder, trying to breathe through the knot in his throat as he thought about a life without David. "I don't want you to go," he choked out through his tears.

There was no response from David.

"David?" He sat up and looked down at his brother, who had suddenly gone limp. "David!" he shouted, shaking the older boy's shoulder, but still, David didn't move. "No! No, no, you are not dying on me now. Do you hear?" He calmed down enough to look for the rise and fall of David's chest, and nearly cried out for joy when he saw it. "Oh God, David, you scared the life out of me."

His relief was short-lived when he realized that David's non-responsiveness was not a good sign. He had to do something, he had to get him to the hospital. He looked at the time and saw that Pop should be home in less than half an hour since he'd hitched a ride to work with a buddy and would be walking home, which meant that…

The car! The Chevy was still outside. If Jack could figure out how to drive it, he could get David to the hospital. He ran to Pop's bedroom and grabbed the spare key, then ran outside and started the car, turning up the heater all the way and opening the passenger side door. Then he ran back inside, wrapped David in his blanket, took a deep breath, and carefully he lifted the older boy in his arms. He staggered under the weight but refused to drop his burden as he made his way out the door down the path to the car. He grunted and cried out as he hefted David up, his arms burning at the weight as he crawled up and deposited David safely on the passenger seat. He slammed the door and ran around to the driver's side, sliding in behind the wheel. He reached over and tried to make David's position more secure and more comfortable, and he ended up with David's head nearly in his lap.

"Okay, okay, brake, clutch, gear, gas. First gear. I can do this. Hang on, David, I'm getting you to the hospital, just hang in there. I can do this."

The car jerked forward when he stepped on the gas and slammed them both back into the seat until he removed his foot from the pedal. Jack's eyes were wide with fear and determination as he man-handled the steering wheel and stepped on the gas pedal again, maneuvering the car onto the road. As he picked up speed he felt the gears grind and he pushed in the clutch and shifted to second, taking a deep breath and trying to remain calm. He could do this.

He slowed down as he neared the curve but he didn't turn soon enough and he only had time to throw his arm out to hold David in place as they slid off the road into the embankment. The car stopped abruptly, tossing both boys forward with the impact.

"Dang it!" Jack shouted as he shook his head and quickly looked over at David. "David!" he exclaimed when he saw that his brother's eyes were open. "David, can you hear me?"

"Jack?" David's voice was barely a whisper. His eyes slowly closed.

"Don't you dare leave me, David!" he cried out and placed his hand against his brother's chest.

He jerked back when he felt a warmth shoot through his arm, down to his palm the instant he made contact with David's chest. He stared down at his hand and was suddenly overtaken by a sense of calm and complete understanding.

There was no more fear as he pressed his hand against David's forehead and closed his eyes, concentrating. A warm, golden glow surrounded David's head and Jack could actually feel his brother's body healing. Every trace of the leukemia was ravaged, the immune system fortified, and just as he was dealing with the pneumonia…

"You son of a bitch! What the Hell do you think you're doing, boy? Are you trying to kill him?"

He was snatched out of the car by the back of his jacket and thrown down on the ground. He slid across the icy road several feet, looking up at the enraged face of his father.

"Don't you ever touch my son, again, Jack. I don't want to see your face around here anymore. You could have killed him, what were you thinking?"

"I was trying to help!" he shouted, getting back on his feet.

Pop slapped him hard on the face, then shoved him in the chest. "You're done helping him. Get out of here, Jack. You're no longer welcome here, we don't want you. When I get home I expect you to be gone."

As Jack tried to get back on his feet, struggling against the fatigue from what he had done for David, Pop slammed the door, kicked the car into reverse, barely avoiding running him over in the process, and sped off down the road.

Jack collapsed down to his knees in the middle of the road, staring at the retreating car that was taking his brother away from him. In his heart he knew his brother would live. He could just see David's face through the back window, peering over the seat, but the car never stopped. Their father kept driving away and David didn't stop him to go back to Jack.

So he ran. He ran and he ran and he didn't stop running until he was miles away from anywhere. When he finally slowed down to a walk he stared at his hands in numb disbelief. What he had done was impossible. He had saved a life.

It felt incredible.

The thrill was tinged with great sorrow that he might never see his brother again. He couldn't go back home.

David was alive, that was all that really mattered.

_--_

_Thirty-five years later_

Jack gazed up through the canopy of the Death Glider at his home planet. Apophis' ships had been destroyed and Earth was safe. "You know, Captain. This wasn't such a bad day after all."

Even when the shuttle Endeavor appeared and he knew he'd live he still felt the sadness, despite their amazing victory, for the sacrifice of his friend and teammate, Daniel Jackson.

It wasn't until SG-1 arrived in the Gate Room and was reunited with a living and breathing Daniel, as Jack embraced the younger man who was almost like a brother to him, he remembered that, sometimes, the people you care about don't leave you behind.

Sometimes they come back.


	4. Chapter 4

_Present Day_

"Hey, Sam," Daniel greeted his teammate as he set his lunch tray down on the table across from her and took a seat. "What's up?"

Sam sighed heavily as she closed the file she had been reading. "Just looking over the list of new recruits to the science department. The General wanted me to check out their credentials and meet with them personally before they're given the official lowdown on the Stargate Project."

"So what's the problem? I know you've done that before. We all have."

"I know, it's just…I hate to be the one to say whether or not they'll get a chance to even know what's going on here."

"O-kay," Daniel said slowly, dipping his head slightly. "I'm guessing you've got someone particular in mind."

She pulled out a sheet from the folder and handed it across the table to her friend, who wiped his mouth with a napkin before accepting the paper. "This man, Dr. Granseth, is certainly qualified for the program. He has three Ph. Ds: in biochemistry, applied physics, and engineering. He's even got a Masters in Psychology. I've read his work, and he's nothing short of brilliant."

"So?" he prompted, waiting for the punch line.

"Did you wonder why he took an interest in psychology, when he's obviously more involved in hard science?"

Daniel scowled slightly. "He seems to know how the world works. Maybe he wanted to know how people work."

She smiled at the suggestion. "Sounds reasonable."

"He's from Minnesota?" Daniel noticed from the brief info sheet. "Jack will love that. But I assume you had a reason for mentioning the psychology aspect."

"The Air Force just flagged something down from his childhood that suggests he might be a security risk."

"Who might be a security risk?" Colonel O'Neill's voice interrupted from behind her as he approached the table with his own tray. He took the seat beside her and immediately began chowing down on his food.

"One of the potential scientist recruits, sir. He's amazingly qualified in…"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. How's he a security risk?"

She managed to avoid rolling her eyes. "It might be nothing, sir, but when he was a teenager he spent several years talking with a psychologist. His mother died when he was three, he was an only child but it seems…" she glanced nervously at Daniel. "It seems he imagined, or hallucinated, that he had a younger brother. I couldn't get many more details, but he mentions it in one of his articles, how his mind created this defense mechanism to help him deal with his illness, acute leukemia. It was an amazing article, sir. In his memories, it was his 'brother' who cured him of his leukemia. He called him his Guardian Angel, because after that, he just disappeared."

She didn't notice the sudden tension in Jack's demeanor. "They thought he was a nutcase?" he asked with forced casualness.

"To put it bluntly," she conceded.

"So how is that a security risk?" Daniel asked.

"You're kidding," Sam replied drolly.

"No, seriously. If he talks, he'd be easy to discredit, with that kind of history."

"That's not really the point, Daniel. What if he can't handle the stress and starts imagining things that aren't there?"

"What if he wasn't imagining things?" Jack asked, seemingly indifferent. "What if he really did have a brother and something happened to him? Wouldn't be the first time someone lied to an emotionally traumatized person."

"Sir?" Sam stared at him in disbelief. "You can't possibly believe that his own father lied to him to cover up his brother's…disappearance."

Jack simply shrugged. "It could happen. So what's this fella's name and when do you interview him?"

"He'll be here tomorrow, with the other potential recruits. His name is David Granseth."

"He's from Minnesota," Daniel added knowingly.

Jack didn't say another word as he finished his meal.

--

David Granseth felt old as he looked around the room at the other scientists who were being considered for this Top Secret government project. He was too old to be contemplating a change in his career but he could always fall back to teaching at the University. He'd done some consulting with the Air Force before so he had been intrigued when he was approached by the military to work on a classified project at Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado Springs.

The others in the room were all much younger than him, as he was approaching his 53rd birthday. Some of these kids looked like they were still teenagers, though realistically he knew they were at least in their thirties. He wondered if the Air Force was looking for experience or longevity.

He'd been thrilled when he learned that Dr. Samantha Carter was involved in the project, because he knew what a brilliant scientist she was and she would only get involved in something really important. Or something really cool. That's what gave him the push to take the chance and come out here to see what was going on.

He took his seat at the large conference table and began skimming through the briefing materials they had been given, which wasn't much. He wasn't sure what Deep Space Radar Telemetry would need from him, but he recognized a cover-up when he saw it. He'd just have to wait to find out more.

He hated waiting.

He looked up when someone new walked into the room, and his companions instantly quieted, as the newcomer was wearing the green BDUs of an Air Force officer. He instantly recognized her as Dr. Carter, or Major Carter, he corrected himself. A moment later another person in BDUs appeared, this time an older man with gray hair. The gray-haired man looked directly at him for a brief moment before his eyes flitted around the rest of the room. Maybe this was the General in command of the base.

"I'm Major Samantha Carter," the woman introduced herself, and took a seat at the head of the table. "I'll be interviewing each of you individually later today but I wanted to meet you all together beforehand to discuss some of the issues relevant to this command." She gave a nod to the man now leaning against the door frame. "This is Colonel Jack O'Neill, he's second-in-command of this facility."

"Jack O'Neill?" David exclaimed before he could stop himself. He hadn't heard that name since he was a boy, he never imagined he'd actually meet someone with that same name.

O'Neill looked at him shrewdly but didn't move from his casual perch at the door. He simply raised his eyebrow at the outburst.

"Is there a problem?" Major Carter asked, looking at David worriedly.

"No, no problem. Please, continue."

He was ashamed to admit that he didn't really listen to most of what she said after that. She went over some of the logistics of working for the military, some of the peculiarities of this particular command and the expectations of its scientific personnel. As she spoke his gaze kept drifting back to the Colonel standing unobtrusively against the wall. He hadn't spoken at all, but occasionally their gazes met and they just stared at each other until David forced himself to look back at the Major. He should have been embarrassed by his behavior but strangely he wasn't. It was almost as though the Colonel expected him to be watching him, as though he was waiting for David to make the first move, but he had no idea what that might be.

Major Carter was talking animatedly about some of the advancements they'd made in the last few years when Colonel O'Neill finally spoke. "Carter."

She immediately stopped talking and turned to look at him. "Sir?"

"We have a briefing of our own tomorrow morning. If you expect to get any rest you might want to skip ahead to the good bits."

She smiled and ducked her head slightly. "Yes sir. Thanks for the reminder."

"Anytime. If you need me you know where to find me," he said as he walked away.

"Right, sir." She gave a small chuckle and looked like she was about to resume the talk when one of the others interrupted with a question.

"If you don't mind my asking, Major, but why was Colonel O'Neill here? Was he observing us, or you?"

She was a bit flustered, and he got the feeling she didn't know the answer to that. "Colonel O'Neill plays an integral part of what we do here at Cheyenne Mountain. It's his job to know what's going on. You'll find that the civilians and military personnel are a lot more integrated in daily work here than on most military bases, so it's entirely possible that you'll find yourself reporting directly to the Colonel or General Hammond."

"Kind of avoided the question, but okay," the guy mumbled to himself.

"He doesn't look like a desk jockey to me," David said, though admittedly his frame of reference was quite limited.

"He isn't," Carter confirmed. "This is a unique command. Colonel O'Neill is the most experienced field operative we have."

"Which, I'm sure, will be much more impressive when we learn what's really going on down here."

She smiled at him blankly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. He knew he was right.

He hoped he'd get to see the Colonel again. There was something about him, he just couldn't put his finger on it. It was more than just the name. Maybe, if he got to stay, he'd have plenty of time to figure it out.

--

_Forty-two years ago_

David sat in his bedroom, re-reading his history notes and making further notes in the margins for things he'd like to look up later when he could get to the library. There was a loud knock on the front door but he let Dad answer it.

Eventually, he could no longer ignore the loud, arguing voices outside of his father and some woman, and he was about to get up to see what was going on when his door inched open slowly. A younger boy with dark blond hair peered inside curiously, but froze when their eyes met.

"Hello," David said warily, wondering who this boy was and why he was wandering through his house.

"Hi," the boy returned, with a lot more confidence than David. The boy stepped inside the room and walked right up to him, stopping just a couple feet from the bed. "I think we might be brothers."

David stared at the boy, unable to think of a coherent response.

"My name's Jack O'Neill. Mom says that man out there is my father. So that makes us brothers, right?"

David nodded dumbly, and then shook himself out of his stupor. "Brothers!" He looked at the door, through which he could still hear his father arguing, shouting, with the woman. He looked again at the boy. "Half-brothers, actually," he said, just to be correct.

He saw Jack's shoulders slump just a little bit, and an expression of hurt and sadness flicker across the boy's face before it was replaced by one of indifference and a shoulder shrug. "Whatever." Jack shoved his hands deep into his pockets and stepped away from the bed, glancing around the room without any real interest.

And just like that, David realized who this boy really was. He was his brother! Without even having to think about it further he stood up, walked right up to the younger boy, and pulled him into a hug. Jack was startled but it didn't take him long to get with the program and he quickly returned the hug, with a little happy laugh.

"Half-brothers is still brothers," David said as he pulled away. "My name's David Granseth. This should be fun."

They both smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Since you guys asked so nicely here's the next chapter. Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews, I'm glad to see so many of you are enjoying this.

-Bixata

--

Daniel looked up from his desk as he heard Jack walk into his office. "Hey, Jack. Where have you been hiding?"

"Why? Did I miss a round of memos?"

Daniel's eyebrows danced as he decided not to answer that question. "Griff was looking for you. He said something about…something."

Jack stared at his friend for a long moment. "That was helpful."

"What do you want? I'm not your message service."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He stepped up to Daniel's desk, his fingers running over an artifact from P2Z-180, not quite touching it.

Daniel immediately pulled the artifact away from Jack's roving hands. There was no knowing what damage idle hands could do when Jack was bored or had something pressing on his mind. "What do you want, Jack?"

"Well, don't overdo the welcome mat, Daniel."

"Oh, don't even try the whole guilt trip scenario, I've fallen for the puppy dog eyes one too many times."

"Excuse me? Puppy dog eyes?"

"You want something, Jack, and you know I'm the guy most likely to fall for your scheme because I just can't resist doing you a favor. So what is it?"

"Well, if you're going to be like that."

"And don't pout, either. I know you too well, Jack, you're not that sensitive. So talk to me."

Jack half-smiled at Daniel's pushiness, and dropped down into the vacant chair across from Daniel. "I was just thinking about…bombshells."

Daniel blinked. He took off his glasses and quickly cleaned them, then put them back on. "Okay."

"Not actual bombshells. I'm being figurative."

"Oh. Okay." That, he could work with.

"Purely hypothetical here. Let's say that, when you were a kid, you had this best friend. You did everything together, you loved him like a brother. So what if someone convinced you that he was never real, when in reality, he and his family had just moved out of town. For years, you think your best friend was just a figment of your imagination, and eventually, you forget all about him. Then suppose that one day, you get a chance to meet him again. Would you want to do that?"

"Is this about that scientist, David Granseth?"

"Maybe. Just answer the question."

"I can't really know for sure. I didn't have a lot of friends when I was a kid, and the ones I did we don't exactly keep in touch anymore."

"Okay, you're kind of missing the point."

"Why is this important to you?"

"It just is. Seriously, Daniel, would you want to be reminded of all those years you spent in therapy, questioning your own sanity, when the reality was there was never anything wrong with you?"

"I think…that I'd want my best friend back." He studied the serious expression on Jack's face for a moment before adding, "Especially if it was you."

Jack, who had been studying his hands, looked up at him with a grateful smile, recognizing the compliment. "Thanks."

"So what is this really about, Jack?"

"Nothing," came Jack's immediate, casual, and far-too-innocent response.

"Wow. I almost believed you," Daniel said dryly, raising his eyebrows knowingly.

"I can't really talk about it. Not yet," Jack finally conceded, silently pleading with Daniel to let the matter drop for the moment.

"Okay, Jack, if that's the way you want it."

"It is."

"So should I not read into the fact that you might know more about Dr. Granseth than what's in his file?"

"Haven't a clue what you're talking about, Daniel."

"All right. It's none of my business. But I'm here if you need to talk."

"I appreciate that, really, I do."

"Then get out of here and let me get back to work, Jack."

"Right." Jack stood up, slapping his hands against his thighs as he did so. "I'll just leave you to it, then."

"See you, Jack." He immediately became reabsorbed in his work as Jack let himself out.

--

Truth be told, David was a little anxious for his personal interview with Major Carter, and it was almost humiliating for a man his age and with his experience to be this nervous. The fact was that ever since he saw Colonel O'Neill he felt like he needed to get involved with this project, no matter what it turned out to be. Deep down, he knew it was important.

When he was finally called to the Major's office he took a few steadying breaths before knocking on the door.

"Come in," he heard the female voice call out from the other side and he opened the door and stepped inside. He stopped when he saw Colonel O'Neill sitting on a table in the corner of the room, his feet dangling over the edge and his hands braced flat on the surface by his sides. "Dr. Granseth, I hope you don't mind if Colonel O'Neill joins us for your interview."

"Not at all," he agreed casually, trying not to let it bother him that this man could have such an effect on him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Colonel O'Neill."

The Colonel looked a bit off-put by that, seemingly unsure how to respond. "Ah, yeah. Backatcha."

"Do you have any questions before we get started?" Major Carter asked politely.

"A few," he admitted.

She waited patiently, but when he didn't say anything else she jutted her chin up and pursed her lips. "And?" she prompted.

"You mean, you're actually going to answer them?"

He heard a deep chuckle from the corner of the room and was secretly pleased that the Colonel had a sense of humor in line with his own. "Walked right into that one, Carter."

She smiled. "I guess I did, sir. I see you've done this before."

"I've been around. I've read some of your work, Major. The early pieces weren't all that impressive but you've really broken through in the past five years or so. Whatever you're doing here has really improved your understanding of theoretical physics."

Carter's eyebrows shot up at his audacity. He hadn't actually insulted her, he'd paid her a compliment in a roundabout way. "You've specialized in a wide variety of scientific areas, Doctor, but I don't see theoretical astrophysics on your CV."

"Not a lot of practical applications for a theoretical astrophysicist in my day, though I get the feeling things have changed. I prefer to use my knowledge, not just accumulate more of it."

"I like this guy," Colonel O'Neill stated suddenly, though his expression remained unchanged.

Major Carter smirked knowingly. "You know we don't hire people on their ability to stand up for themselves, Colonel."

"Nah, it's not that. He says he didn't get those three Ph. Ds and a Masters just to learn all that stuff, he did it so he could use it. That's the kind of commitment we need around here." He hesitated. "Isn't it?"

She was clearly impressed with the Colonel's reasoning as she replied, "Yes, sir. It is. And from the articles he's written, we know he's telling the truth. A lot of principles Dr. Granseth developed are already in widespread use in the areas of engineering and medicinal chemistry."

"I'll take your word for it," the Colonel said dryly.

"Does that mean you're going to tell me what's really going on around here?" David asked patiently, knowing it didn't.

Major Carter cringed awkwardly, chewing at her lip in obvious discomfort.

David sighed, familiar with that response and understanding what it meant. "I had leukemia, Major Carter. It was a long time ago."

"Look, I don't mean to be rude, and you've obviously come a long way, but…we can't have people imagining things that aren't really there. We have enough weird anomalies as it is, we don't need to add paranoia."

"I can't explain what happened, Major Carter. I haven't had any other strange visions or invisible friends since I was cured, and I'm a fairly rational person."

"Do you still believe your 'brother' was real?"

He scowled slightly at the emphasis she put around 'brother.' "I believe he was real to me. I loved him like a brother, I was proud of him like a brother, and I know he protected me and loved me like a brother. It's been forty years, but I still miss him, and I'd give anything to get him back. I'm sorry if that's not something you want to hear, but it's the truth and I won't deny it. Jack meant the world to me, and if the Doctors were right way back when, and he was really just a part of me, then I owe it to us both not to pretend he never existed."

He recognized the discomfort on her face and knew his chances were slim. She might admire his acceptance of what happened to him when he was a child, but she couldn't condone his belief in a fantasy.

"Thanks all the same, Major," he said swiftly to prevent her from having to say anything. He rose to his feet. "I appreciate that you even considered me at all, for whatever it is you're doing."

"Carter." Colonel O'Neill's soft voice startled him for a moment, and he glanced over at the officer, who had his head bowed down, looking at his swaying feet.

"Sir?"

"Scientifically speaking, would Dr. Granseth be a valuable asset to this command?"

She looked David straight in the eye as she answered, "Undoubtedly."

"Then sign him up. I'll vouch for his character."

She turned to the Colonel in shock. "Colonel?"

"You heard me. I'll take full responsibility. We need him, Carter, and you and I both know how important it is to have an open mind around this joint. We all have our pasts. Who's to say he's any crazier than the rest of us?"

"You're sure, sir?"

The Colonel nodded, then slid off the table and walked over to David. They were nearly the same height, same age, same brown eyes. David was slightly shorter and heftier with a softer middle section. He had lighter hair that had only begun to turn gray at the temples, fairer skin and two good knees.

As they looked each other in the eye, Colonel Jack O'Neill offered his hand and David Granseth accepted it with a firm handshake. "Welcome to Stargate Command," Jack stated coolly, then smiled reassuringly and patted him on the shoulder before releasing his hand. "This should be fun." Then he walked out of the room, leaving two stunned scientists in his wake.

"I think you've got a fan," Major Carter finally broke the silence with a nervous laugh.

He turned towards her and braced his hands on her desk. "Stargate?!"

--

_Forty-two years ago_

"I don't think our Dad likes me very much," Jack said, lying on his back on the sleeping mat on the floor next to David's bed.

David peered over the edge. "What makes you say that?"

Jack shrugged, sliding his hands beneath his head and looking up at the ceiling. "He doesn't talk to me."

"He just doesn't know you, yet. Give him a chance, it's been a shock to him to find out about you. You've always known you had a father, but Dad didn't know he had another son until a few days ago. He'll come around."

"And if he doesn't?"

David reached down and ruffled his hand through Jack's hair. "Well, I like you. Don't worry, Jack, things will work out."

Jack grinned as he tried to smooth down his hair, then decided he preferred it messy. "Okay."


	6. Chapter 6

David was so incredibly overwhelmed by everything he had learned about Stargate Command over the past three days. He'd been given the official briefing and signed all the nondisclosure statements without hesitation and was already being introduced to the inner workings of the SGC. He'd shoveled his way through the first two years of mission reports and was anxious to read them all.

He was particularly enthralled by the flagship team, SG-1, and their incredible discoveries and adventures. Despite the fact that he should have been more interested in the technical and scientific reports of Major Carter, he actually preferred reading Colonel O'Neill's reports. They were so much like the man he had seen only a few times: succinct, full of character, and with hidden depths of knowledge and insight that could take you by surprise.

He had been allowed to look at the Stargate up close a couple of times, but today would be the first time he'd get to see it in action. SG-1 was coming back from a mission (as scheduled, for once, which seemed to be a slightly morbid joke among the technicians that operated the Stargate because of the number of times the team got into unexpected trouble) and he had been given access to the Control Room to see it.

He waited unobtrusively in the back, arms folded across his chest. If he wasn't so excited about what was about to happen, he'd probably be bored out of his skull.

Exactly two minutes after the scheduled check-in the inner ring of the Stargate began to spin and the dark orange chevrons lit up. He gasped involuntarily and took a step closer, just as General Hammond arrived.

"First time, Dr. Granseth?" the elderly General asked with amusement.

"Yes, sir," he replied dumbly, too enthralled to comment further. He was grateful when the General didn't call him on it.

As the wormhole shot out and settled inside the metal ring of the Stargate he was speechless. He'd never seen anything so amazing in his entire life, it was breath-taking. Absolutely incredible. The effect was only multiplied as four figures emerged, and it boggled the mind to think that they had been thousands of light-years away only seconds ago.

Despite the wonder of the alien device in action, his eyes settled on Colonel O'Neill. What was it about that man that seemed so familiar? O'Neill pulled off his sunglasses, which were attached to a cord around his neck, before he unclipped the P-90 at his chest and handed it to another airman.

The General was entering the Gate Room as the rest of SG-1 walked down the ramp, and he could just hear their conversation through the microphones in the Gate Room. "Welcome back, SG-1. How'd it go, Colonel?"

"No sign of the Goa'uld or any other civilization, according to Daniel and Carter's readings, but I wouldn't recommend it as a possible safe world for resettlement."

David could see the smiles on the faces of O'Neill's teammates, except for the Jaffa, Teal'c, who had an eyebrow raised in almost a quizzical manner.

"Why's that, Colonel?" the General asked.

The Colonel pulled off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair vigorously. "Intuition?" he offered, weakly.

Confused, Hammond looked to Major Carter for an explanation.

"He's got a headache, sir," she explained, failing to hide the smile.

"He was being a grouch," Dr. Jackson added shamelessly. "He swears there has to be something on that planet that caused it, but…you never know."

O'Neill scowled at his teammate. "I am not a grouch. I have a naturally sunny disposition."

That earned a snort of disbelief from the General, and David found himself grinning along with the banter of these people. He had no idea that military personnel could be like this while on duty.

"Get yourself checked out in the infirmary, Colonel. We'll debrief in one hour."

"Yes, sir," the Colonel complied, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he walked through the door.

Rather anti-climactic for an SG-1 mission, but he supposed that was a good thing.

--

Hours later, Jack sat hunched over a table in the commissary, his tray shoved to the other side of the table as he cradled his head in his hands. He was hungry but he couldn't bring himself to eat because of the splitting headache that made him nauseas just to move. The lights were too bright, the noise was too loud, and he seriously needed to have a talk with the guy with the hammer in his brain.

"If you don't mind my saying so, Colonel, you look terrible."

Keeping his head suspended in his left hand he put on his hat with his right hand, pulling the bill down to conceal his face. There was quiet, amused laughter from the other side of the table.

"That is not what I meant. May I join you?"

He waved his hand, inviting David Granseth to join him but remaining silent, with his eyes closed and his head down. He massaged his neck a bit, but it did nothing to relieve the tension in his head.

He was surprised by the silence. Usually, the scientists he worked with couldn't stop talking long enough to eat with their mouths closed. David had to have a thousand questions but maybe he was smart enough to recognize that talking to a Colonel with a migraine was like talking to a bear with a sore head. Not worth it.

It was at least fifteen minutes later, long enough for David to finish his lunch, before the scientist finally spoke again. "Should you not be in the infirmary, Colonel?"

Jack shrugged his shoulders and adjusted his hands to rub at his temples.

"Come on. I'll help you down there."

He didn't resist as gentle hands helped him stand up and practically carried him down to the infirmary. As he was laid down on one of the infirmary beds he opened his eyes, just a slit, and gazed up at David who was leaning over him as he helped him set his head on the pillow gently. "I missed you," he whispered, then was promptly unconscious.

--

David stared down at the Colonel in disbelief. He must have been mistaken for someone else, this Jack O'Neill couldn't possibly know him.

"What happened?" Dr. Janet Fraiser asked him as she quickly examined the Colonel.

"I found him in the cafeteria, holding his head like he had a headache. He hardly moved for twenty minutes. He looked so miserable I thought you ought to check him out."

"Yes, thank you for bringing him in."

"Is he going to be okay?"

"Don't you worry about the Colonel none. I'll take good care of him."

He knew that was his cue to take his leave.

He walked back to the lab to which he was assigned at the moment and resumed the work he had been doing before his lunch break, which was mostly becoming acquainted with the equipment and organization in the lab. For the most part, his current assignment was reading up on the reports of experiments done on materials that had been brought back through the Stargate, namely the mineral Naquadah that the Goa'uld used in most of their technology and that made up the bulk of the Stargate.

His mind drifted back to the Colonel, unable to focus on anything else for the moment.

Jack O'Neill. The name alone was enough to bring back painful memories for him. There was always a part of him that could never really believe that the Jack he knew had never really existed as flesh and blood. He had vivid memories of watching hockey games, of wiping blood off the face of the younger boy after he'd been in a fight, of heart-breaking angst wondering if his brother was going to come back this time, and elation when he finally did. Jack was so much a part of his life, had changed the way he looked at the world and at others, that it was impossible his little brother didn't exist.

Yet there was so much evidence to the contrary. Before he and his father moved to another town he'd searched every corner of the house when he had finally recovered from the pneumonia, but there was nothing that he had come to associate as his brother's. His clothes, his books, his hockey gear, even his bed, there was nothing there. The only things David could find were the presents Jack had given him: a book on astronomy and a pocket knife. He remembered how hard Jack had worked to scrape up enough money to buy that book, not knowing why his brother had wanted the money so badly at the time. And he remembered the sheepish smile on Jack's face as he handed him the pocket knife. "To help you fix things. There's more to it than you'd expect. Kinda like you," Jack had said.

Dad had explained that he had actually been the one to buy him the book, and that he'd found the pocket knife on the ground and thought David might like it. He still treasured those two gifts, and the memories they'd entailed, even years after he had finally accepted that Jack was nothing more than an illusion his mind had created.

There were other signs, as well. Jack's sudden appearance in their lives and Dad's indifference to the younger boy no matter what Jack did. The way Jack never considered his own safety when David needed protection. And, of course, what Jack did the last time he ever saw him.

Some nights he could still feel Jack's hand on his forehead, fighting his battle for him as he had always done.

He could still see that image through the back window of the car, his brother kneeling in the middle of the road as he was taken away from him, unable to go back to him. In his dreams, he'd shout at his father to turn around, to go back, and Jack would be there, waiting for him.

He remembered his brother's tears as he told the younger boy that he was special, and how proud he felt at that moment, of his brother and of himself. That was the day he had finally felt like a man, not a boy. It was the day he began to stand up for himself.

It was only after Jack was gone that he began to stand up for others as well. In his heart, he felt that if he had been able to turn that car around, to stand up for Jack against their father, then maybe Jack never would have left.

For him, an imaginary brother was better than no brother at all.

He missed Jack.

Colonel Jack O'Neill missed somebody, too. He wondered who it was.

--

_Forty years ago_

"Jack, where have you been?" David exclaimed as Jack limped through the door. He pulled his younger brother into a hug before checking him over for injuries. "What happened?"

Jack shrugged away from David, head lowered, his feet shifting. "I went for a walk."

"A walk? Jack, you've been gone for three days. I was afraid something had happened to you. Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Jack replied, still looking away.

David sighed, recognizing his brother in his stubborn phase. "Alright, you go get cleaned up and I'll get you something to eat." As Jack started to walk away he called out, "And Jack?" He waited for Jack to look at him. "I missed you."

Jack smiled a little. "I know."


	7. Chapter 7

It had been two days since David got to see the Stargate in action, and he found himself wishing that he would get a chance to go through it. He knew it was dangerous, and he was in no physical condition to defend himself in a war zone, but he wanted to feel how the Stargate worked. He wanted to travel to other worlds, breathe in the alien atmosphere. He wanted to explore.

Forty years ago he would have been content in merely the knowledge that those worlds existed, but ever since his miraculous recovery he had strived to experience the world outside of books.

Yet, here he was inside a lab, several hundred feet beneath the Earth's surface, reading. Life seemed so unfair at times.

He needed some fresh air.

"Excuse me, Dr. Granseth?"

David looked up at the voice, instantly recognizing Dr. Jackson. "Yes?"

Dr. Jackson entered the lab, extending his hand to David. "I'm Daniel Jackson. We haven't met, yet, so I thought I'd introduce myself, and see how you're settling in around here."

"I appreciate that, Dr. Jackson. This place is incredible. I can't believe this has all been going on without the world knowing about it. Your team has done an amazing job."

Daniel smiled awkwardly at the praise. "Thank you. And it's Daniel. So I understand you're a friend of Jack's," he said without further preamble.

David was taken by surprise. "I wouldn't say friends, I hardly even know him. He did vouch for me to get into the Stargate Program. I understand he doesn't do that a lot."

Daniel chuckled as he sat down in the chair next to him, swinging back and forth in it slightly. "He never does that. To be honest, it's got me a little curious. Jack's intolerance for scientists is well-documented. It's more a case of 'proving your worth' than 'benefit of the doubt.'"

"And you've obviously proven your worth."

"Ah, well, um. Extenuating circumstances."

David didn't need to ask for an explanation. "So how is Colonel O'Neill? I haven't seen him around the last couple days, I know he had a pretty bad headache after that mission."

Daniel rubbed at his temple, looking down at the floor. "Turns out there was something on the planet that our sensors didn't pick up the first time. It was some kind of failed experiment the Goa'uld abandoned. Unfortunately without any written details," he added under his breath.

"So Colonel O'Neill's intuition was right."

Daniel sighed dramatically. "It usually is. We sent SG-8 back to the planet and they had to return in less than three hours. Lieutenant Walker and Dr. Travers nearly passed out from the pain."

"Your team was out there for eight hours," David stated, wondering how Colonel O'Neill had managed the pain for so long.

"Yep," Daniel said simply. "Sam will probably be by to put you to work on the device, as soon as we get it cleared through quarantine. We're pretty sure it's turned off now, General Hammond doesn't want to risk it affecting the personnel on the base."

"Wise man, General Hammond," David stated wryly.

Daniel's lips quirked up in a small smile. "Yes, he is. That's funny, you sounded just like Jack."

"I did?"

"Mm-hmm." Daniel glanced down at the reports David had been reading. "I should let you get back to that."

"Actually, I was just thinking about heading up to the surface and getting some fresh air for a change. It was nice meeting you, Daniel," he said, offering his hand to Daniel again.

"Yeah, you too," Daniel replied sincerely, genuinely liking the older man. "See you around."

As David made his way to the surface Daniel ran down to the recreation room where he knew Jack was working out in an effort to avoid his paperwork. He checked to make sure Jack was alone in the room and that he wasn't holding anything heavy before he exclaimed, "You're his brother!"

Jack looked over his shoulder, unperturbed by Daniel's disruption, and sat down on the bench, picking up the free weights. "I know I'm repeating myself here, but I haven't got a clue what you're talking about."

Daniel stepped in front of Jack and folded his arms across his chest. "Come on, Jack, I sat in the room with him for less than a minute and it was so obvious. I realize it's none of my business…"

"You're right, Daniel. It isn't."

Daniel knelt down on the floor, looking up at him, his expression full of understanding and compassion and refusal to let this go. "He's your brother, Jack. I know how you feel about family, I know how important it is to you. So what happened? Why didn't you tell him who you were the second you realized he was here? Why the games?"

"It isn't a game."

"He thinks you were a figment of his imagination. How could you let him believe that?

Jack looked down at him, clearly irritated, but dropped the weights and picked up a towel, wiping the sweat off his face and arms. "I didn't know they lied to him until Carter told us the other day." He stood up angrily, twisting the towel between his hands. "I sent him _thousands_ of letters, for five years and I never got one response. David was the only good thing in my life back then, and when he never wrote me back…" he trailed off, his fist lightly tapping the side of his leg.

"You thought he didn't want you in his life anymore," Daniel finished for him.

"Not exactly. I thought he was afraid of me. It never made any sense to me because David was the last person on Earth who would ever hurt me."

"Why would he be afraid of you?"

Jack scowled and shrugged his shoulders. "Doesn't really matter."

Daniel sighed, knowing there was little chance he'd be getting anymore information out of Jack. "If you won't talk to me about it, will you at least talk to him? Sam told me what he said during his interview, Jack. He misses you."

"It's not that simple, Daniel," Jack said softly, staring straight ahead at the wall.

"It rarely is." Daniel walked away, intending to leave his friend to think things through alone, but turned back to offer one last piece of information. "He went up to the surface to get some fresh air. If you hurry you might catch him."

--

David was enjoying his walk along the mountainside, instantly feeling rejuvenated after the hours on end he had spent beneath the surface in the controlled environment of the SGC. Ever since his recovery, throughout his entire academic career, he had always tried to spare a few minutes a day to enjoy the outdoors and get in a little exercise. That was something he had learned from Jack, though he never did learn how to ice skate.

"Mind some company?"

David jumped at the intrusive voice, he hadn't realized anyone was nearby but then he noticed that he had been headed back towards the entrance so he shouldn't have been surprised to run into other people.

Colonel O'Neill was sitting on a boulder, his legs stretched out in front of him, a pair of sunglasses covering his eyes.

"Colonel, sorry. I didn't see you there."

"Ah-huh. Taking in the clean mountain air, Doc?"

"Something like that."

"Yeah, sometimes you just need to get out of the mountain and smell the daisies. It's nice to see one of you people taking care of yourself, for a change. Only time Carter and Daniel see the sun is on other planets."

David smiled at the hidden affection within that statement. "Unfortunately, I don't have that option. Though personally, I'm quite content with this planet. I don't think you'll ever find a world out there that could compete with Minnesota."

"Minnesota, eh?" The Colonel pulled off his sunglasses, looking up at him shrewdly. "You play hockey, Doc?"

"Never even learned how to skate, actually," he admitted.

Colonel O'Neill shook his head in feigned disappointment, sliding the glasses back on and standing up. "Unnatural."

David stared at him as he walked away, beckoning him to follow. That was surreal. He followed the Colonel back inside as the leader of SG-1 listed off several planets that were similar to Minnesota. And several with beaches. And a few that didn't have a lot of those pesky trees.

David was beginning to understand, as the pieces to the puzzle fell together.

--

_Thirty-seven years ago_

Jack glanced at his grandfather, who was sound asleep in the chair, a blanket pulled up around his shoulders, his chin tucked down against his chest. With nowhere else to go, Jack had run to the only person he knew might be willing to give him a chance: his mother's father. It had been a cold trip to the cabin up north, he'd only had the clothes on his back, he didn't have food or money, but he knew enough about survival in the harsh winter of Minnesota to make it all the way.

When he'd burst through the front door, without knocking, less than an hour before sundown and immediately curled up in front of the fire his grandfather had been incredibly perturbed but accommodating. The elder man helped Jack warm up by the fire and brought him something warm to eat. It wasn't until Jack was comfortable and his belly was full that he finally told the old man who he was. His grandfather didn't ask him why he was there, nor did he ask about the bruise on his cheek, the tears in his pants and jacket, or the lack of sufficiently warm clothes. He just put Jack to bed in the spare room with extra blankets and told him he was welcome to stay as long as he needed.

That had been a month ago.

Jack re-read what he had written on the page in front of him.

_Dear David,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. Grandpa says that's how you're supposed to begin a letter, and since I do hope that you're feeling well, I decided to humor him. He has an amazing library here at the cabin. It's too far to the nearest school so he's home-schooling me, I think he called it. We spend a few hours every day reading through the books he got from the school last week, and then we go outside and he teaches me how to survive out here in the wilderness. Finally, a subject I can understand. _

_We were tracking wolves today, but we have to be careful of the hunters. There are traps all over the place, Grandpa says it's almost like a minefield these days. I think he's exaggerating but it's hard to tell. I don't think I could ever kill a wolf. Some folks say they're dangerous, but I don't think so. They're only trying to protect themselves, and the others in their pack. I think it's noble._

_I'm still waiting for a response from you. The post office sent me your forwarding address, so I guess you moved. Maybe you didn't get my first letters, but they weren't returned to me so I hope you did. Write me as soon as you can, please?_

_Love, _

_Your brother, Jack_

He sighed as he tucked the letter into the envelope along with the others he had written in the past three days. They were all the same, describing the mundane details of his life and then begging David to write to him. He wanted to say so much more but he couldn't put his feelings into words. He was never great at expressing himself, and he felt a bit like a fool whenever he got remotely sentimental, so he avoided it at all costs.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe David needed to know that he was, in fact, a human being with emotions. Not just some weird alien freak with magical healing powers.

At the bottom of the page, beneath his signature he wrote:

_P.S. I miss you_


	8. Chapter 8

Spoilers: Menace, The Sentinel, Meridian

Jack leaned back against the couch, holding the cool glass of his beer bottle against his forehead. This had been a bad day. He'd learned a long time ago not to let words get to him.

_You stupid, son of a bitch._

Daniel's words cut straight to the core.

All of his Intel pointed to the fact that Reece had been losing control of the Replicators, so he'd taken the shot to eliminate that threat. He was protecting his people, defending his world, as he had been trained to do. It was his nature.

Daniel hadn't seemed to mind when Reece was using the Replicators to defend herself. What made him so different, that an emotionally immature robot could warrant Daniel's respect and sympathy because she was worried about her own survival, while Jack was treated with scorn and disappointment because he was defending an entire planet? He had killed the robot because she was an immediate threat to Earth, that was all there was to it. His conscience was clear.

_You stupid, son of a bitch._

Words weren't supposed to get to him. He had done the right thing. He had saved lives.

_You son of a bitch! What the Hell do you think you're doing, boy?_

He had saved David's life, too.

He leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes, his hand dropping down, resting the bottom of the beer bottle against his thigh. An image of a wolf came to his mind, though he wasn't sure why. A memory, an insight, it didn't matter. He was just too tired. He was tired of being misunderstood.

He felt a sense of impending loss. Would Daniel leave because of this? Had he finally crossed that boundary that always left him alone in the end, whether he was the one left behind or the one forced to leave?

He was tired of running.

He leapt to his feet decisively, set the nearly full beer bottle on the table, grabbed his jacket and went out the door to his truck. He couldn't do this anymore, he had to talk to him. He had to fix this before he lost everything again. There had been too many misunderstandings, too many accidents he couldn't fix, but his only mistake had been running away from those who cared about him. He'd been given a second chance and he was going to take advantage of it.

They had to talk. He would have to open up and explain himself, maybe even reveal a bit of emotion for a change. He was human, after all.

Several minutes later he waited awkwardly for the front door to open, hoping that he would be welcome, but deciding that even if he wasn't he wouldn't let that stop him.

"Jack?"

Jack grimaced in his attempt at a smile. "Hey, Daniel."

Daniel hesitated just a moment before opening the door wide for him. "Want a beer?"

Jack grabbed at the peace offering. "Sure." He closed the door behind him as he followed Daniel into the apartment.

They sat together in silence, looking anywhere but at each other. Finally, Jack coughed to clear his throat and to get Daniel's attention. "We're okay, right?"

Daniel's eyebrows shot up. "You're asking me?"

Jack shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I'm not a sensitive kind of guy. I learned early on how to deal with being who I am and how people respond to me."

"Who you are?" Daniel interrupted.

"Yeah. An inconvenience. The dumb one. A stupid, son of a bitch. My father, now he was a self-righteous bastard, wouldn't give me the time of day, barely tolerated my existence, and eventually he sent me packing in the middle of winter with no food, no money, and a black eye as a keepsake. And you know what I did that finally pushed him over the edge? I saved my brother's life. He may not have known it at the time, but that doesn't change the fact that David is alive now because of me, and I wouldn't hesitate to do it again. I may not be a genius, and I may not be the golden boy for humanity but I am damn good at protecting my people and I won't apologize for that. You said she was just trying to protect herself. I was just trying to protect this planet, so don't judge me by some arbitrary set of ideals."

Daniel stared at him, his expression blank, as Jack inwardly cringed at his impromptu speech. He hadn't meant to get into all that, he certainly hadn't meant to mention his father or accuse Daniel of anything.

He cleared his throat again, glancing around the room before settling his gaze on Daniel. "So, are we good?"

Daniel's eyebrows arched above his glasses then settled as he focused his gaze on the cup of coffee in his hands. "I'm not mad at you, Jack." He rolled his eyes at Jack's look of disbelief. "I was upset with what you did, but it wasn't entirely your fault. I'm just so sick of it all. We live in constant fear that the Goa'uld or the Replicators are going to come to Earth and wipe us out, so we're spending more and more time looking at the military aspects of every mission, and every discovery. There is so much more we could be doing, we could be making a real difference out there but we've got out hands tied because we're only looking for the militaristic gains. It's just…frustrating."

"Yeah. I know what you mean."

Daniel flinched slightly, leaning forward and cradling the cup in his hands. "For what it's worth…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you that. You were just doing your job."

Jack nodded, accepting the apology and taking a sip of his beer. "How's the arm?"

Daniel looked down at the cast on his arm, which had been fractured by Reece, flexing his fingers. "It'll be fine in a few days. Doesn't hurt anymore."

"That's good," Jack said lamely, unsure what else to talk about.

Daniel leaned back, watching Jack carefully, having consciously decided not to let Jack's military decisions get between their friendship. "So you saved your brother's life?"

"Oh for cryin' out loud," Jack muttered good-naturedly at the inquiry. "Pop left me to take care of him. He was non-responsive, I figured he needed to get to the hospital, so I tried to drive him there."

"And?"

"I was ten."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh. But you know what they say about young people."

Daniel smiled in recognition. "The very young do not always do what they are told."

Jack smiled, relaxing for the first time since the whole Reece incident. Things were going to be okay after all.

--

David had been evacuated from the SGC when the Replicators created by the robot Reece had taken over the base, and he was glad to have missed out on all the excitement. He'd heard stories over the next couple weeks about how Colonel O'Neill and Daniel Jackson had finally neutralized the threat. There had been a difference of opinion, some harsh words said between them, and then they'd gone about their business.

He didn't give it much thought as he returned to his own work. He'd seen Daniel and the Colonel in the weeks that followed the Reece incident and they'd been as close as ever, so he assumed they'd worked out whatever had happened between them and moved past it.

His own relationship with the Colonel had continued to baffle him. Jack, as he had been given permission to call him, had started dropping by his lab to chat, fiddling around with various items on his desk so David had assumed the visits were to alleviate his boredom. They started talking about their lives in Minnesota, and Jack spoke fondly of his grandfather who had raised him in a cabin up north. Jack even casually offered him an invitation to go fishing sometime. David would go so far as to say they were now friends.

Every time he saw the Colonel he became more and more confused. There were moments when he would swear that Colonel Jack O'Neill had to be the same little boy he had known forty years ago, no matter what his logic told him. But then, thinking back on it, he wasn't sure he had ever truly believed his brother was just a figment of his imagination. Dad may have been convincing, but most of the evidence he only accepted because he never saw Jack again. If Jack had just run away he was sure his brother would have sent him a letter, called him, dropped by to say hi some time in the last forty years, but there had been nothing.

And there was the fact that Colonel O'Neill never brought it up. If he was really his brother, why wouldn't Jack just tell him?

There were times he allowed himself to believe Jack was his real brother, and after SG-1's last mission, to a planet with a planetary defensive shield called the Sentinel, he thought he may have an insight as to why Jack, if he was really related, would keep it a secret. On the planet designated P2A-018, Latona to the locals, Jack had been taken prisoner and tortured by the Jaffa serving the Goa'uld Svarog. When SG-1 returned to Earth nobody mentioned it. He had later asked Jack how he'd received the gash next to his eye, and Jack hadn't batted an eye as he said, "The Jaffa kind of battered me around a bit. No big deal."

No big deal.

Just like his little brother Jack didn't think it was a big deal for Dad to slap him around when he did something wrong.

David had never done a thing to stop it from happening, either.

He wanted to ask. He needed to ask. Every time he saw Jack since that mission the question was on the tip of his tongue, 'Are you my brother?' but he could never work up the courage to follow through. What if he wasn't? What if he was simply seeing something that wasn't there? What if Jack hadn't gotten in touch for all these years because he was mad at David for never standing up for him?

His thoughts were interrupted by the warning announcement of an incoming wormhole, and he guessed it was SG-1 returning from their visit to Kelowna.

An hour later he received word that Dr. Jackson had been exposed to a lethal dose of radiation. One look at Colonel O'Neill's face as they passed in the halls as Jack was headed to the infirmary to sit with Daniel and he knew.

That was his brother.

--

_Six years ago_

It had been a month since Jack had returned from his first mission through the Stargate. He'd left Daniel Jackson back on Abydos, with a beautiful wife and people that would finally accept him and love him. Jack had returned home to find that his wife Sara was gone, and he didn't blame her for leaving.

It was time to start over again. Or maybe, to go back to the beginning.

He looked up a name on the internet, made some calls, and a few days later he was sitting in the back of a half-full lecture hall while Dr. David Granseth gave a seminar on some engineering projects he had done in Africa and South America, improving water irrigation, building stoves out of local materials that burned more efficiently and safely, and other similar projects. It was a seminar for undergraduates so he knew David had chosen a topic that would be appealing and not too far over their heads.

As the lecture concluded and everyone around him began to stand and pack their bags he remained seated, trying to decide how he should handle this. Introducing yourself to your long-lost brother was awkward enough, but to do it on a college campus without any warning was just cruel. What could he say, anyway? He'd never been good at the whole talking thing.

So he left. It was all in the past, it was better to leave it alone. He had seen his brother and he was doing well, that was all that really mattered. Daniel was alive and well back on Abydos. Sara was moving on with her life, and she didn't need him there to remind her of what they had lost.

He was alone, but he didn't mind. There was always something to live for, he'd just have to wait and see where his journey led him.

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, it's probably going to be a couple days before I can post the next part, sorry about that but there's a lot to dig into. I'm not going to post it until I'm satisfied that it feels right, but your reviews have inspired me so far, so thanks to all of you who have and will review, I'm grateful for your feedback and support.

Bixata


	9. Chapter 9

Spoilers: Meridian

Jack had spent the last few hours by Daniel's bedside, wishing there was something he could do to help his friend. He had returned to Kelowna hoping to clear Daniel's name from the accusations of sabotage their government was making, and he had tried to tell Daniel how much he meant to him, but he got the feeling he hadn't been successful in either endeavor. He wasn't good at talking, he lived by his actions.

Now, finally, after so many agonizing hours of watching his best friend suffer from the radiation poisoning there was something he could do to show Daniel that they really were like brothers. He could feel the healing warmth in his body and knew that, with Jacob helping, he would be able to heal Daniel completely.

He was just about to step forward to Daniel's bedside when suddenly he was swept away to the Gate Room, or rather, a dream state of the Gate Room, with Daniel standing there, alive and healthy.

"Daniel?" he asked warily, unsure what was going on.

"Yeah." Daniel looked like he needed to say something but couldn't figure out how to begin.

Jack could feel the healing powers cascading through him, anxious to be released. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah. Tell Jacob to stop."

"Why?" And, Hell no!

"Because I'm ready to move on."

"You're just giving up?" Jack asked in disbelief, wondering if he was too late.

"No. No, I'm not giving up, believe me. You remember Oma?"

Jack glanced at the woman standing silently at the top of the ramp to the open wormhole and watched as she transformed into a white energy being and disappeared through the Stargate. "Sure."

"I think I can do more this way," Daniel told him, his eyes pleading with Jack to understand. "It's what I want. I have to go now. Everything's going to be fine. Please, Jack. Tell Jacob to stop."

Jack swallowed, staring at Daniel as he went over his options, wishing he could just take command and tell Daniel what to do. But he had to give Daniel the choice, even if Daniel still chose to leave, no matter how much it would hurt Jack to lose him. He owed it to his friend.

"I can heal you." He looked up into Daniel's eyes, which were shimmering with unshed tears as he was essentially saying goodbye to Jack. "I can finish the job Jacob has started. If it's a choice between this…" he waved at the Stargate, "…and death, then I'm giving you a third option."

Daniel shook his head slightly in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Jack took a single step closer to Daniel, his body still in the infirmary also copying his movement. "I cured my brother of leukemia, Daniel. I don't know how, but it's always been a part of me, and I feel it in me now. Trust me. If you truly believe you can do more with Oma, then I'll tell Jacob to stop. I'll help you move on. But if you want to stay, with us…then I can restore you to full health. I can make it so you can continue your work on SG-1."

There was so much more he could have said. He could have reminded Daniel that he was the conscience of SG-1 and without him there would be nobody to argue and fight for the peaceful way, the non-military approach, the scientific exploration. But that would be a lie, because despite what a terrific pain in the ass Daniel had been over the last five years, Jack really had learned to admire him, and because of that, usually he already knew what Daniel's opinion would be and acted on it.

He could have begged Daniel not to leave him behind, but Jack had never resorted to emotional blackmail and he wasn't about to start. Whatever Daniel's decision, he wanted his friend to have a clear conscience without being tormented by feelings of guilt for moving on. He knew what it was like. He never even got to say goodbye to David before running away, running to what he believed would be a better future.

Daniel could hardly believe what Jack was saying to him, yet he could also feel the truth in his words. Jack could save his life, if he wished to continue down that path. He thought about what Oma had said. _One cannot reach enlightenment by running from death._ Was this really what he wanted?

As Daniel made his choice, Jack thought 'Daniel will be alive, that's all that really matters.'

--

David slammed the door to his temporary apartment as he stormed inside, twisting out of his jacket and throwing it onto the couch, followed by his keys and his wallet which bounced off the cushions due to Newton's Third Law of Motion.

How fitting. To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. He didn't believe in Jack, now Jack didn't believe in him. Or maybe didn't want him as a brother anymore, same thing.

He couldn't even blame Jack for that, either. Whatever had happened between them David knew it was his fault for not standing up for his brother, for letting their father manipulate him into believing that Jack wasn't real. How could he ever believe that? How could Dad do that?

He felt the fury rise within him as he picked up the phone and punched in the numbers, but stopped before the last digit was entered and slammed down the receiver. He needed to calm down so he could start the conversation rationally, before degenerating into the growling, irate, temper tantrum he knew was inevitable.

He sat down on the couch and forced himself to calm down, controlling his breathing and relaxing the tense muscles in his back and shoulders. This time when he dialed the phone and heard it ringing on the other end he was composed and rational.

His stepmother answered and he asked if he could speak with his Dad, avoiding the usual pleasantries. He wasn't in the mood.

"Hey, David, I'm glad you called," his father's voice, roughened with age, sounded decidedly cheerful. "So did you get that job you were talking about last time? Something with the Air Force, right?"

David smiled grimly at the perfect opening. "Yes, I did. Turns out I used to know the man who's second-in-command of the base."

"Really? Who?" He could hear the smile in Dad's voice.

"Colonel Jack O'Neill."

The other end was silent.

"You lied to me," he stated calmly, his tone more chilling and harsh than if he had shouted at the top of his lungs. "You made me believe he wasn't real. How could you do that to me? How could you do that to Jack?"

"You don't understand," his father whispered.

"You're right, I don't, and I hope I never do. He was your son!"

"_You_ are my son."

"I wish I wasn't. You played my ignorance, you made a fool out of me and you cost me my brother! Did you think he wasn't good enough, is that it? I remember the way you treated him, and I'm ashamed I let you get away with it. And then you just pretended like he never existed, you made me think that I was crazy, that the most important person in my life was merely a hallucination. Do you have any idea what that did to me? What it did to Jack? And for what? He saved my life!"

"I know! I realize that now, and if I had this to do all over again I would have done things a whole lot differently. But by the time I figured it out…I'd been lying to you for so long I just couldn't tell you the truth."

"So you decided that lying to me my entire life was the safer course of action. Yes, that sounds like a wise idea."

"It wasn't like that."

"I don't care. I don't care what was going through your head when you made the conscious decision to deny the life of your son. I only want one thing from you. Jack tried to get in touch with me after he left, didn't he?"

His father didn't reply for a long time.

"Didn't he?" David demanded angrily.

"Yes. He sent letters." There was another long pause. "A lot of them."

David's head dropped, holding his forehead in his hand. "How could you do that to us?"

"David."

"Just…Stay away from my family." He sighed heavily as he hung up the phone.

His suspicions confirmed, though he had already known the truth in his heart, now he just had to explain things to Jack. Special Forces trained Colonel Jack O'Neill. That shouldn't be too hard.

--

_Four days later_

Jack leaned against the door, bracing his hands on either side, his head bowed down between his shoulders. This should be the easiest thing in the world to do, yet he couldn't raise his hand to knock on the door. He'd been standing there for five minutes now, trying to find the words he wanted to say but knowing that there were no guidelines for what he was about to do. His team couldn't help him out of this one, nobody could. Except, maybe, the man on the other side of the door.

He could do this. He had to do this.

Rolling his eyes at his childish reluctance he knocked on the door, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stepped back slightly, trying to adopt the casual demeanor that was his greatest defense. He heard movement inside and saw a light turn on before he heard the click of the lock and the door was slowly opened.

David stared at him, clearly surprised by his presence. "Hello."

"Hi," Jack replied, his expression carefully blank.

David studied him for a moment before stepping aside and gesturing for him to come inside, unable to think of anything to say. Over the last four days he had been going over and over what he could possibly say to Jack to get the younger man to accept him as his brother, despite what had happened all those years ago. Was Jack finally taking the initiative for both of them?

Jack stepped inside, glancing around the room without any real interest before turning back to David as he found the words he needed to say, the ones he had been searching for ever since he saw his brother in that lecture hall six years ago. "I think we might be brothers," he announced abruptly, confidently, his voice only slightly cracking at the end as he battled to keep his emotions under control.

David, unaccustomed to the art of concealing his feelings, felt tears in his eyes at the impact of those words, burned into his memory even after so many years. "Half-brothers," he corrected as he had the first time they met, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jack looked at him, his expression softening, but it wasn't the vulnerable face of that little seven year-old boy that just wanted a place to belong, and it wasn't the nonchalant body language of the boy who was putting up a front to prevent himself from getting hurt. It was the demeanor of a man who always stood up after he'd been kicked down, who never accepted that he was second best, despite what everybody told him. This was Colonel Jack O'Neill, American hero, protector of Earth, a man who always put others before himself yet still knew that his own life was worth living.

And just like that, David realized it was the easiest thing in the world to do.

"Half-brothers is still brothers," they said simultaneously, and this time, they took the first step together.

* * *

Author's Note: I know, I messed with canon which was something I was trying to explain rather than modify, but by the time I got to this point there didn't seem to be any other alternative. If Jack could heal his brother I figured he'd find a way to help Daniel, the question is whether or not Daniel decided to ascend. I haven't had a lot of time to work on this story, so the next chapter might take another week, just so you know. I pretty much had to dig this one out with tooth and nail, I hate rewriting episodes but it was necessary.

I write for me, I post for you. Read for you, review for me. Thanks to everybody who has reviewed so far, they are greatly (ENORMOUSLY) appreciated.

-Bixata


	10. Chapter 10

Spoilers: very small one for Revelations, Meridian

--

Jack and David slowly pulled out of their embrace, staring at the expression on the other's face until Jack chuckled, patting his brother on the shoulder. "So this isn't going to be awkward or anything, is it?" he asked as he stepped back, sliding his hands into his pockets.

David looked down at the floor near Jack's feet, then around the rest of the room, making sure the universe was still in one piece. Yep, nothing earth-shattering going on in his living room. "We managed to avoid all that the first time."

"Yeah. So we did." He followed David's gaze to the middle of the room, where there were two cardboard boxes, the packing tape having already been cut open but the flaps concealing anything inside. "Still moving in?"

"No. They were just delivered a few hours ago." He hesitated nervously, unsure how Jack was going to react if he told him what was inside. "It's the letters you sent me, after you…I never received them, until now. Our father was a more deceitful bastard than I gave him credit for."

Jack merely looked at him, not needing to voice his own thoughts about the man.

"I can't imagine why he bothered to keep them all these years," David added, walking over to them and bending down to pick one up. It was dated May 30, 1965 on the envelope. "He never even opened them." He dropped the letter back into the box on top of the others.

Jack gazed at the box, hearing the disappointment and anger in David's words despite his composed delivery. "He probably kept them in case you ever figured out the truth. I'm guessing you confronted him about it, now he's trying to make it up to you. To show he really did care."

David flinched. "If I had known…"

"I know," Jack quickly interrupted him. "I never blamed you. I think we're both blaming ourselves for what happened between us and if it's okay with you I'd rather we just accepted it's all in the past and moved on. We're not kids anymore."

David studied his brother's face for a long moment. "No, we're not. But what happened back then changed us both."

"Hopefully for the better."

"I know it did for me."

Jack smiled. "I'm a colonel in the United States Air Force, leading the flagship team of the most classified project on Earth making first contact with aliens and fighting False Gods bent on galactic domination. You think I'd be where I am if I let people tell me I wasn't smart enough to do anything?" He glanced around the room again, his gaze settling on a few pictures hanging up on the wall.

David chuckled shyly, immensely proud of his brother, and of his younger self that had recognized Jack's greatness and, unknowingly, pushed him to his full potential. "You were always smart, Jack. You just weren't interested in things that weren't relevant to you at the time."

"And I'm pretty sure they're still not relevant," Jack said under his breath, walking over to study on the photographs on the wall.

One of the pictures was of David and a young woman in her late teens, his arm around her shoulder as they both smiled broadly at the camera, a mountaintop vista in the background and their clothes indicating they had been hiking. "That's my daughter. She's nineteen, a sophomore in college. Now that she's settled in at school I thought I'd get a new start somewhere else. Imagine my luck that the SGC came calling when it did."

"What's her name?" Jack asked.

David couldn't hide his grin. "Jacqueline. Jackie, for short."

Jack looked at him, appalled. "You didn't."

"I did. She's a great kid. Wants to be an artist, she loves to draw just about everything." He paused, before adding with feigned indifference, "She plays hockey. Her high school team won the league championship."

"Yes!" Jack crowed triumphantly, pumping his fists in the air. "I knew you had it in you. Hockey's in our blood, I'm telling you. I'd love to meet her someday. What about her mother?"

"We divorced when Jackie was fourteen, but stayed close. It just wasn't meant to be, but I wouldn't trade Jackie for anything, so I don't regret it. What about you?"

Jack kept his gaze on Jackie's still expression, trying not to see any of Charlie in her features. "I have plenty of regrets, but not about getting married or..." _being a father,_ he finished silently. He couldn't talk about it now, he didn't want to carry that burden into this moment. He wasn't ready for that. "SG-1 has been my family for a long time now."

"Yeah, I noticed you guys are all pretty close. After everything you've been through, I'm not surprised." He hesitated, wondering if he should bring up the subject of Daniel, but decided it was still too soon to talk about it, judging from Jack's lack of reaction. "So."

"So," Jack echoed, turning away from the pictures. They stood there in an awkward silence for a while. "I'm hungry. I spent a lot of money on those stamps, so I think it's only fair that you buy me dinner."

David grinned and shook his head in amusement. "Fine. Though I'm planning on reading every one of those letters, so they won't go to waste."

"Oh," Jack said without enthusiasm, grimacing at the idea of reviving his childhood memories, even if he wasn't the one reviving them. "I'd skip the year I'm 14. I think the term angry young man comes to mind."

David cringed guiltily, wishing things could have been different for them both. "Maybe they'll inspire me next time I see Dad."

Jack choked out a laugh, trying to imagine the David he remembered from his childhood saying some of the words Jack had used with astonishing frequency in some of his later letters. He just couldn't see that happening. Things had certainly changed over the years. "You'll be able to quote me. I never blamed you for anything, David," he admitted seriously. "When I saved your life it never even crossed my mind how Pop would react. I wasn't trying to seek his approval, so when he threw me out I didn't care. I didn't care about the consequences to me, as long as you were alive. So I don't have any regrets. And neither should you."

"I don't regret you saving my life," David said slowly.

"Good enough for me," Jack said, slapping him on the shoulder again. "Besides, I think I may need your help."

"Because of what happened to Daniel Jackson?"

"Yeah," Jack responded uncomfortably. "But first, you were taking me to dinner. We can talk about work later. Right now, I want to get to know my big brother."

After dinner, they talked long into the morning, catching up on the nearly 40 years they had spent apart, until Jack fell asleep on the couch, already exhausted from his latest mission to rescue the Asgards Thor and Heimdall from Anubis.

David gazed at the sleeping form of his brother, still able to see the little boy he had once known through the tough exterior of the Air Force Colonel. "Good night, Jack," he whispered as he draped a blanket over his brother, turned off all the lights except a lamp on the other side of the room, and went to bed.

--

_Four days ago_

Daniel looked up the ramp towards the Stargate, considering his future if he followed Oma's path, a future that took him away from his friends but led him to the wisdom he always sought, the knowledge he craved. Then he looked at Jack, whose presence had always tethered him to the SGC like a lifeline, who had offered him a home and a shoulder to lean on and had given him the chance to prove so many times and to so many people that they could make a difference, that he could make a difference.

That there were still things worth fighting for.

As Jack watched Daniel's internal struggle, in his mind he saw the metaphorical car of his childhood, the one that was taking his family away from him, slow down.

Daniel took a step down the ramp, his eyes still glistening in the blue glow of the active Stargate. Again, he turned and looked up at the wormhole that lead to a journey he could only imagine. Yet it was a journey that would still be available to him years down the road. For now, he already had a purpose, he was already making a difference and using his knowledge to make the galaxy a better place. Maybe that was why he had been so reluctant to accept Oma's offer at first. He still had so much he could do with this life. He still had to prove to himself that he was the man Oma and his friends believed him to be.

The metaphorical car turned around as Daniel turned back to Jack and finally admitted the truth to himself and to his best friend.

"Help me, Jack. I want to stay."

Jack took a deep breath in relief, smiling slightly. "I want you to stay, too."

Daniel smiled, his eyes far from dry. "I couldn't leave you behind now, could I?"

"Do me a favor? Next time you think about catching the next plane of existence out of here, do it without the theatrics of radiation poisoning. It's such a mess."

"I'll try to remember that next time I want to die. So how do we do this?"

"You think happy thoughts and tell yourself there's no place like home." In the dream state of the Gate Room Jack placed his hand on Daniel's shoulder. "This is your home, Daniel. I hope you know that."

Daniel glanced back at the active Stargate, wondering if Oma was still waiting for him on the other side, and wishing her well. Suddenly, he and Jack were swept away to the infirmary where Jacob was still healing his decaying body. His friends were all gathered around him, his teammates, the General and Janet, and he couldn't imagine ever leaving them. This was his family. "I know."

Jack watched the healthy, dream state version of Daniel disappear as the younger man returned his mind to his body. He stepped forward, gently pushing aside one of the monitors so he could get close, standing side by side with Jacob. He recognized the irony of the moment: Daniel was almost like a son to Jacob, and a brother to Jack. This was his family now, in the same position his real family had been in almost forty years ago. Only this time, they weren't going to screw up. Daniel wasn't leaving them behind and Jack wasn't giving him a reason to.

He placed his right hand over Daniel's forehead, giving Jacob room to continue with the healing device over Daniel's chest.

"Colonel?" Janet asked warily.

Jack didn't respond as he closed his eyes, feeling the familiar warmth and passing it on to Daniel, instinctively knowing what he needed to do.

"Sir? What are you doing?" Carter asked.

"Holy Hanna," Jacob suddenly gasped.

"Don't stop," Jack ordered, his eyes still closed, as a warm, white glow surrounded Daniel's head, accompanied by the red glow of the healing device in Jacob's hand.

"He's stabilizing," Janet announced in awe, torn between watching the monitors or the actual healing.

"Don't stop," Jack repeated absently, focusing on the power within and Daniel's strength, binding the two.

Daniel slowly regained consciousness as the pain dissipated until there was nothing but warmth and well-being. He gasped out, sucking in a deep breath. It was always a shock coming back from the dead, or the near-dead as the case may be, and it took him a moment to orient himself and remember his conversation with Jack.

Meanwhile, Jack was falling, exhausted from his efforts, but unlike his own father so many years ago, Jacob was there to catch him.

* * *

Author's Notes: Okay, so I'm a big liar, and an update in a week became an update in a month, despite the 34 reviews I was so graciously given for the last chapter, and a million thanks for those. I'm trying really hard to keep my writing interesting and poignant with each chapter, because I hate it when a really good story starts to lose its edge.

I had planned to finish this story in the next chapter, and I probably will, but there was a lot of interest in learning more about David so I'm trying to work out a plotline to give him more screen time with Jack. I may decide to post it as a separate story, because I really love the relationship between Jack and David and there are so many possibilities but it would be difficult to continue in the same style as my previous chapters, which would throw the whole story out of whack. Anyway, hopefully I'll get the next part out sooner, and my sincere thanks for sticking with me on this. As always, reviews are appreciated.

Bixata


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